


Shipping Wars

by NinjaFalcon90



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: A literal shipping war, Alternate Universe - Human, Background Canada/Prussia, Background Relationships, Fluff, Humor, Love Triangles, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided England/France (Hetalia), Protective Older Brothers, Protective Siblings, Romance, Shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25199209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaFalcon90/pseuds/NinjaFalcon90
Summary: An American and French deliveryman are at odds with each other when an English customer catches both of their interests, leading to a literal shipping war.
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia), England/France (Hetalia)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 65





	Shipping Wars

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> Mon amour=My love  
> Bonjour=Hello  
> Arrête=Wait  
> S'il vous plaît=Please

A UPS delivery truck’s right blinkers flashed as it turned into Westshire Apartments’ parking lot. Stepping on the breaks and pulling the creaking lever, Alfred glanced at the address stickered on the package’s cardboard surface before looking around his unfamiliar surroundings.

 _Apartment 161… According to the signs, apartments 160 to 169 are located directly where the truck is parked._ _Don’t need to waste so much time looking around._ Tucking the package underneath his arm, Alfred climbed out of the truck, his nimble feet tapping the metal steps. Despite approaching his third year of working for UPS, Alfred’s heart still cringed at the thought of seeing an unsympathetic ticket slipped in between his truck’s windshield wipers, and a cross-armed middle-aged woman impatiently tapping her foot, preparing to screech at him for double-parking in front of her car. Fortunately, Apartment 161 was not too far. Approaching the door, Alfred’s index finger pressed the doorbell.

 _“Ding-dong!”_ The bell rang behind the door. From the opposite side, the floorboard creaked as soft footsteps came near.

When the door swung open, Alfred started, “Hello, I have a package for—woah...” 

A pair of green eyes caught Alfred in the middle of sentence, its hue having the same gleam as emeralds. Alfred’s mouth hung open as his eyes glanced up to the furrowed brows arched above the emerald orbs, slightly covered by sandy-blond bangs. They were the thickest brows he had ever seen. Despite its unusual thickness, Alfred’s stomach did not recoil in disgust at the sight of them. In fact, there was something distinctively adorable about them.

The man’s eyes sharpened into an annoyed glare. “Pardon, you said that this package is for…?” A thick British accent rang in his irritated tone.

Alfred blinked, snapping out of his reverie. “Oh, sorry.” Heat began to rise in his cheeks. “It’s for an… Arthur Kirkland.”

Arthur swiftly snatched the package out of Alfred’s arms. “That is me. Where do I sign?” he grumbled, placing the package on an adjacent sofa.

Alfred handed Arthur a clipboard, his palms growing sweaty. Arthur’s eyes silently scanned the black text. A ballpoint pen scribbled across the paper surface before Arthur returned it to Alfred. “Have a nice day.”

Before Alfred could utter a response, the door slammed shut on him.

If the effects of gravity varied with people’s emotions, Alfred would be floating towards the stratosphere. His footsteps felt as light as a feather. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought back a silly, lovestruck smile, fearful of possible eyes peering behind window blinds. Once he climbed back into the truck, Alfred slumped into his seat with a long sigh. Resting his chin on the steering wheel, he noticed his faint reflection’s dazed beet-red face in the window shield’s glassy surface. Alfred’s body trembled at his ridiculous expression, unable to hold the stifled giggles.

Hearty laughter rang inside the driver’s compartment. As his laughter calmed, Alfred took off his glasses and wiped the tears from his eyes. He then looked at the calligraphic signature on his most recent delivery confirmation form, a contrast to his chicken scratches. Alfred’s mind once again drifted to Arthur Kirkland’s gorgeous green eyes, grouchy thick eye brows, and rich English accent.

He hoped to see that signature again.

* * *

 _“Arthur Kirkland. 1937 Westshire Avenue. Apartment 161.”_ Alfred read the address out loud. A smile tugged his lips. As Alfred stepped out of his truck, he glanced as the side mirror, brushing stray strands out of his face and checking to see if reminisces of Big Mac was stuck in between his pearly whites. Nervousness jumbled in his stomach as he strode towards Arthur’s apartment, already knowing the destination by heart.

Before knocking on the door, Alfred adjusted his glasses and straightened his posture. Clearing his throat, he rang the doorbell. A close-lipped smile naturally rose at the clicking door lock.

Arthur opened the door. “Oh, it’s you again.” He said with a blank expression.

Alfred did not expect Arthur to say that.

“Y-Yeah, it’s me!” Alfred stammered, nervously flashing a white smile. “I have a package for…Arthur Kirkland.”

_That was a stupid thing to say._

Arthur rose a thick brow, his lips straight.

Alfred’s smile faltered slightly as he chuckled, “Yeah, it’s for you! I know it’s for you because, well, you know, I delivered something to you last week or something like that, you know?”

_He obviously knows._

“Here you go!” Alfred held the package in front of Arthur’s face.

Shooting Alfred another glare, Arthur slowly took the package out of his hands and placed it on the ground next to him. “Signature?”

Alfred only nodded and gave Arthur the clipboard again. His eyes wandered onto several picture frames perched on a bookshelf. All the blond figures garbed in green was definitely Arthur. For the most part, the photos showed him with three other short-haired people, probably men. The only long-haired individual was a woman with a close resemblance to Arthur, hair color, eyebrows, eyes and all.

_Do these pictures mean that Arthur is—?_

“Ahem.” Arthur coughed, nudging Alfred’s arm with the clipboard. “Here you go.”

“Oh, thank you.” Alfred broke his look from the pictures, turning it to Arthur.

“Have a nice day.” Arthur said with a slight smile. He began to push the door close.

“S-Same to you…” Alfred stuttered as the door shut.

 _Did he smile at me?_

* * *

_Today’s the day! I’m gonna tell and ask him!_

The sun was shining, and the blue sky was clear without a single grey cloud in the sky! What a perfect day to ask someone out! After flipping the turn signal on, Alfred glanced at the side mirror for any bikers before turning into Westshire Apartments. His weight shifting with the turn, the blond mentally repeated the pickup line he spent the last week improvising.

“Hey, how would you rate my shipping?” Alfred asked himself as he entered the parking lot. “Because you and me are my OTP. Man, I hope Arthur knows what I’m talking about when I say—”

 _Truck!!!_ Alfred’s left foot slammed the breaks. His truck skidded to a halt, a mere few inches away from the white truck’s bumper. Setting the brakes and stepping out of his vehicle, uneasiness coiled in Alfred’s stomach when he recognized the purple and orange FedEx logo etched on the truck’s side. Why was he feeling this way? He previously saw thousands of FedEx trucks during his delivery routines and did not give a second thought.

 _Maybe there’s a delivery made for someone else in the apartment!_ Double checking the address on Arthur’s parcel, America made his way to Apartment 161. Black sneakers dug into the concrete sidewalk in a halt. Alfred’s hands numbed, nearly releasing their hold onto Arthur’s delivery. His knees grew weak at the wavy-haired FedEx deliveryman speaking to Arthur at the doorway.

From where he was standing, Alfred could only watch the two’s mouth move. Hoping that neither of them would notice his presence, he crept behind the corner of an apartment, and submerged himself into the lush bushes. Through the bushes, Alfred’s face paled when the Frenchman wrapped Arthur into a sudden embrace and forced his lips onto the Englishman’s. Alfred’s hand immediately covered his mouth as he fought the nausea urging him to regurgitate his lunch.

After a short moment, the FedEx deliveryman passed Alfred’s hiding spot, oblivious to the young blond’s existence. Despite only being a couple steps away, the man’s strong cologne stung the insides of Alfred’s nose. He briefly glanced at Alfred’s truck before getting into his. Once when the FedEx truck circled the parking lot and drove back into the main street, Alfred emerged from the bushes. If his eyes could change color depending on his mood, their greenness would rival Arthur’s. Tiny leaves rained off his hair as he solemnly went to Arthur’s apartment.

 _“Ding dong!”_ Within a few moments, Arthur opened the door. His initial frown turned into a stunned expression. “You again!” he exclaimed. His red face flushed into an even deeper red.

Alfred forced an unsteady grin. “Yeah, it’s me. Here’s your package again.”

As previously done, Alfred gave Arthur his package before giving him the delivery confirmation to sign. Taking the paper form, Arthur’s brows clenched at Alfred’s sad, sky-blue eyes. “Is something the matter?”

“Nothing.” Alfred answered, giving another small smile. “Just tired. Had a lot of packages to deliver today.”

“You must be hardworking.” Arthur remarked as he signed the form. “Take care of yourself. If you overwork yourself, you are certain to fall ill.”

“I will.” Alfred replied.

“Hope to see you again.” Arthur retired back into his apartment.

Not even Arthur’s warm goodbye was enough to lighten the emptiness in Alfred’s stomach. 

* * *

_“Why don’t you still ask him? It doesn’t hurt to clarify!”_ Matthew’s suggestion echoed in Alfred’s head as he stood in front of Arthur’s door.

Alfred’s fingernails lightly scratched the cardboard surface. A heavy weight hung over his shoulder as he went to press the doorbell. His finger was a few centimeters away from the bell before his hand quickly retracted. No, he could not do this. Imagining the quote “Yes, I already have a boyfriend.” spoken in a British accent cut into Alfred’s heart like a knife. The thumping organ ached as he thought of cradling Arthur in his arms, the smaller man returning the protective embrace and burying his head into Alfred’s chest.

_Fuck it. Let’s do this._

Alfred’s hand tapped the doorbell. _“Ding dong!”_

The door remained still.

_“Ding dong!”_

Still no response.

“No one is here?” A French voice asked. Alfred jumped. Walking towards him was the FedEx deliveryman from the other day.

Francis peered through the window blinds. “There’s no lights on. Not a single person in sight.” He tsked before adding, “How sad. I was hoping to see mon amour Arthur today.”

“Mon amour?” Alfred tried to hide the jealousy dripping off his tone.

“Not exactly.” Francis answered. “Arthur can be reluctant in accepting and expression affection. However, he’ll eventually give in. No one can resist the charm of the French!”

“But, can he put up with you?” A cocky grin crept across Alfred’s lips. “Bro, I know that his people historically can’t stand yours!”

“At least my people did not dump his people’s tea into the harbor!” Francis retorted with a smirk.

_Touché._

“Mark my words, Américain!” Francis continued, giving Alfred a deadly glare. “If Arthur and you get into a relationship, sooner or later, both of you will separate like how this country gained its own sovereignty!”

Angry heat flare in Alfred’s cheeks. “Dude, I’ll prove you wrong!” he hissed, setting his package onto Arthur’s welcome mat. Unable to tolerate Francis’s suffocating, venomous presence any longer, Alfred’s blue eyes returned the cold glower, his scowl as sharp as icicles. His dirty-blond hair whizzed around as he turned to stomp back to his truck.

_I’m gonna beat this FedEx man!_

* * *

_“Ooooh, a love rivalry! Kesesesesesese! You better show that Arthur who’s gonna be the more devoted lover! How about giving him a small gift?”_ For once, Matthew’s hyperactive, sometimes-obnoxious boyfriend provided good advice.

 _Thank god that damn FedEx truck is nowhere._ Alfred got off his truck and began his jog to his usual destination. As he ran past the first three apartments, an abrupt recalled memory lit in his mind. _Oh crap, almost forgot to bring it!_ Alfred leapt back towards the opposite direction and dashed back to his truck.

How could he leave the red rose sitting on his dashboard? In his haste, Alfred carelessly snatched it off. Thorns dug into his fingers. Hissing in pain, Alfred looked at the dark crimson blood oozing from his small cuts. A gentle, fluttering plop drew his eyes to the ground.

 _Crap, crap!_ Alfred quickly picked up the rose. He sighed in relief, since not a single delicate petal parted from the others. What would Arthur think of him if he gave him a spoiled rose, his homeland’s national flower and a symbol of romance? Arthur would definitely slam the door in Alfred’s face and close all the blinders before Alfred could even speak to him!

“Bonjour! We meet again!” A familiar French voice called outside.

 _Fuck_. Rose in hand, Alfred looked outside. Francis’s rumbling truck was parked behind his.

“I see you had the same idea!” Francis said, twirling something in his fingers.

Alfred’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the object, before widening at the familiar red hue.

_That bastard also brought a fucking rose!_

Alfred’s teeth gritted into a toothy, aggressive sneer. “Both of us dudes might have roses, but I think Arthur will give higher ratings to whoever delivers faster!”

In a blink of an eye, Alfred was sprinting off to Arthur.

“Hey! Arrête!!!” Francis shouted, running after Alfred.

Alfred’s hurrying footsteps thundered down the path. His heartbeats pounded in his ears as he slowed in front of Arthur’s apartment. Sweat-soaked bangs stuck to his forehead. Huffing, Alfred brushed his messy hair out of his face. After straightening his glasses, he reached for the doorbell.

Francis’s hand tightly caught Alfred’s hand. “Let me do the honors.”

Alfred yanked his hand out of Francis’s. “No.” He reached for the doorbell again.

Francis elbowed Alfred in the ribs. “S'il vous plaît! I insist!”

Alfred shoved Francis back. “No!”

“What are you two wankers doing!?”

The two rivals immediately turned at Arthur’s voice. Alfred’s stomach flip-flopped at the Englishman’s black suit. Arthur’s dark forest-green tie matched his widened eyes, which feverishly darted from Francis to Alfred. His knuckles whitened when he tightened his grasp on his briefcase. 

Alfred and Francis parted from their scuffle, shooting quick side-looks at each other.

Silence.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed, “One of you gits answer me! I’ve had an exhausting and stressful day at work, and my patience is already thin as it is!”

Silence.

Alfred finally held his package out. “I have a package for you.” He sheepishly smiled.

“Me too!” Francis added.

“Both of us have packages!”

“Give me a moment.” Arthur gruffly mumbled as he walked through the two. He slid his key through the lock and pushed the door open. Setting his briefcase against the sofa, he turned to the deliverymen, his arms folded.

“My packages, please?” Arthur’s caustic tone rose at ‘please’. Rising a brow, he uncoiled his arms and held out his hands in a disdainful gesture.

Shooting Francis a glare, Alfred gave Arthur his delivery first. The box a mere inch from his open hands, Arthur caught red petals on the grey concrete ground.

“Oh, these poor roses!” Arthur gasped as he bent down to pick up the two flowers. Examining their rich, red color, he sighed in relief. “They can be saved.”

“Do you still want your package?” Alfred dared to ask.

Setting the roses in a vase, Arthur took Alfred’s parcel without a word. His narrowed eyes remained on the paper sheet as he hastily scribbled his signature, refusing to look up at Alfred.

“Here you go.” Arthur finally said, shoving the form into Alfred’s hands and turning to Francis with a scowl.

“Your delivery, mon amour.” Francis winked.

“Oh, stop it frog.” Arthur growled, jerking the box from Francis’s grasp and scanning the recipient’s name. “And no, it’s not for me. Look!” The Englishman’s finger rapped on the printed name.

“Still, you are the one picking it up for this Dylan, non?” Francis teased, leaning into Arthur’s face with puckered lips.

“Shut it, you git!”

As he walked away and looked at Arthur’s signature, Alfred’s clutching fingers lightly rumbled the form’s surface.

~.~.~

 _Please be there first… Please be there first…_ Alfred nervously bit his lip as he drove into the parking lot. His stomach dropped at the white vehicle haughtily obstructing his path, its hazard lights flashing at him to back off. Blood pressure rising, Alfred shut his eyes and slowly counted to ten. Air slowly puffed through his lips.

 _Alfred Fitzgerald Jones my dude, don’t make yourself look stupid in front of Arthur. Please don’t. Besides, how can he resist these?_ A modest-sized bouquet of red and white roses sat next to Arthur’s package.

Package in left, bouquet in right, Alfred got out of his truck—at the same moment Francis left his. Alfred’s blood pressure spiked at the vivid red rose bouquet—quadruple the size of his—cradled in Francis’s arms.

After giving an antagonistic look at the American, Francis took off and shouted, “I will not be bested today!”

“Dude, I won’t!” Alfred called, chasing after the Frenchman.

Red and white petals fluttered behind the galloping men. A few apartment residents peered through their curtains and blinds at the rumbling footsteps. Just as when Francis was a step away from Arthur’s doorstep, Alfred grabbed him by the shoulder. Unable to stop in time, his body slammed against Francis. Both of their bodies tumbled onto the ground. Roses flew into the air and rained onto the brawling deliverymen.

Francis pinned Alfred onto the ground. “Arthur is mine!”

“Fuck off, dude!” Alfred shoved Francis off. Before he could pick up the package and launch it at Francis’s face, the door flew open.

“Oi! What the ‘ell’s goin’ on?!”

Intimidating green eyes, the same hue as Arthur’s, angrily looked at the chaotic scene at the entrance. The Scotsman’s red face rivaled his flaming short hair. His faded overalls were smeared with black oil, as if he had just returned from battling robots. If looks could hurt, Alfred and Francis would already be sliced into thin ribbons.

Recognizing Francis, Allistor put his hands across his hips in a threatening stance. His thick brows, which had an uncanny likeness to Arthur’s arched. “Oh, ye again! Yer the bloke always comin’ here and harassin’ me brother!”

Francis nervously laughed as Alistaor stamped towards him, the redhead’s larger build towering over him. “O-Oh! You’re his frère!”

A trembling chill shivered up Alfred’s spine at Allistor’s sarcastic snicker. “Aye, the oldest one.” Allistor turned over his shoulder. “Oi! Connor! Dylan! Get yer arses over ‘ere!”

Two male figures arrived and encircled Francis, both also having the exact green eyes and thick brows. The brunet crossed his arms and hmphed aggressively, his scowl making Francis back up with a whimper. Although a tiny, friendly smile was on the shorter, strawberry-blond man’s features, the hissing bearded dragon perched on his shoulder contributed to his menacing aura.

Dylan started. “We just want to tell you,”

“Te leave Arthur alone.” Connor finished.

“If we catch ye snoopin’ around our baby brother,” Alisator continued.

“We. Will. End. Ye.” The three brothers finished in unison.

“I’m expectin’ a package today.” Alisator said, leering at Francis. “Do ye ‘ave it?”

“Arrête, s'il vous plait! It’s back in my truck!” The three brothers opened a way for Francis to scurry through.

As Connor and Dylan returned inside, Allistor watched Francis vanish down the corridor, before his eyes shot to Alfred. Alfred flinched at the quick movement. “This also applies to ye.” He warned in a low tone. “Catch ye messin’ around with our brother too much and we’ll set ye straight too! What ye got ‘ere?”

Alfred swallowed nervously. “It’s your brother’s.” He stuttered.

Receiving the package, Allistor’s brows slightly furrowed at Arthur’s name printed on the box. “Arthur’s been orderin’ a whole lot of shite online, why…?” He muttered to himself.

“Do you want me to help with cleaning up these roses?” Alfred asked.

“No. Go ‘way.” Allistor’s tone remained hostile.

* * *

**_Four Months Later…_ **

Raindrops fell from the dark sky and rattled on the windshield. Pulling the waterproof hood over his head, Alfred sadly sighed, heart painfully clenching at the final package’s all-too recognizable name. Out of all recipients, why did Arthur Kirkland have to be the last one for today? Stepping out of the truck, the rain pattered on Alfred, his arms protectively embracing the precious delivery. A cold wind blew against him. As his coat whipped, water found its way onto Alfred’s glasses. The droplets turned Alfred’s world into a swirly world of orange light and shadows.

The glowing doorbell was enticing to press, as if Alfred was a moth. Yet, Alfred could only blankly stare at the circular button. None of the apartment’s residents wanted to see him at their doorsteps, not even the blond with the gorgeous green eyes. If delivery confirmations were not required, Alfred would have just set the package on the doormat and leave.

Holding his breath, Alfred rang the doorbell. Pale yellow lights engulfed him as Allistor emerged in the doorway.

“Hey.” Alfred said in a monotone voice. “Delivery for Arthur Kirkland.”

Allistor’s straight lips slightly shifted to the right before he turned and called, “Oi! Artie! Package for ye!”

“Don’t call me ‘Artie’!” Alfred’s eyes flickered when Arthur arrived. Arthur looked at Allistor. “You may leave now.”

Allistor only gave Arthur a mischievous smirk as he rose his brows. 

“You may leave now!” Arthur repeated, his tone rising in annoyance. Allistor comically rolled his eyes and snorted a laugh as he disappeared from the doorway.

Arthur took his package from Alfred. “Thank you very much.”

“Hey,” Alfred began, earning a curious “Hmmm?” from the Englishman.

“I’m sorry about what happened a couple months ago.” Alfred’s cheeks were pink with shame. “I didn’t know that I made you feel unsafe.”

“It’s fine.” Arthur replied. “I accept your apology.”

Parallel, rectangular orange shapes shone across Alfred’s body. Behind the blinds, Dylan held his bearded dragon in front of Connor’s puckered lips. The poor reptile hysterically wiggled in its owner’s grasp, a distressed gleam shining in its black eyes. Both Dylan and Connor trembled wildly with stifled laughter. Small tears began to form at the corners of their eyes as their cheeks gradually became pinker.

“Wait just a moment.” Arthur faced his two brothers with an exasperated expression. “Bugger off, you wankers!” Chortles rang in the living room as the blinds immediately shut.

“Sorry, my brothers can be so infuriating.” Arthur sighed.

“It’s ok. I see how my little brother feels around me sometimes.” Alfred joked.

“That’s what brothers do to each other I suppose.” Arthur smiled, signing the form. “Here you go.”

“Thank you. Have a nice day.” Alfred turned to leave.

“Wait just a moment!” Arthur dashed inside and returned with a medium-sized cardboard box. He held it in front of Alfred.

“Is that for me?”

“…Yes.” Arthur’s face began to redden. He blocked his face with the box.

“Really?”

“Why am I holding a box in front of you like this?” Arthur’s cheeks grew warmer.

“Because you’re giving it to me?”

“JUST TAKE IT!” Arthur shoved the Alfred into his arms. His scowling face was as red as a tomato.

“Ok, ok!” Alfred exclaimed. “Thanks! Hope to see you next time!”

“Americans…” Arthur only crossly murmured to himself as the door closed.

* * *

Locking the door behind him, Alfred flipped the light switch on and hung his drenched coat on the coatrack. He kicked his shoes off and placed Arthur’s gift on the coffee table.

A razorblade sliced through the reflective black tape enclosing the package. When Alfred opened the box, he was met with burnt scones encased in a zip-lock bag and four packets of Earl Grey leaf water. Perched atop the foodstuff was a pastel-colored note written in cursive. 

_We hope you enjoyed your order! If unsatisfied with the product, call (XXX)XXX-XXXX._

_-Arthur Kirkland_

**Author's Note:**

> Since I already updated another fic here, I'm probably spamming the Hetalia fic section right now!  
> I wanted to upload some oneshots here just to get my name out here more instead of only constantly updating "Make a Wish". This story is one of the oneshots I managed to brainstorm, and I'm pretty proud of it.  
> Just to make things clear, I actually like both UsUk and FrUk. Admittedly, I like UsUk more, but both these pairings are my OTP(s). How else are FACE family fics gonna be a thing? Since the story's written in Alfred's perspective, I decided to end it with him being with Arthur. For the next shipping oneshot, I'm planning to make it FrUk centered. I don't know how bad Hetalia shipping wars can get today, but please don't fight over pairings in the comments lol.  
> I used Google translate for some of Francis's dialogue. If anything's incorrect, please let me know! Hope you guys enjoyed this oneshot!


End file.
